


The Champion

by Orilea



Category: Original Work
Genre: Major Original Character(s), Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Original Universe, Other, Post-Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 09:19:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19765204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orilea/pseuds/Orilea





	The Champion

Tarion knew that today was an important day. He and his king were on the road to either prevent a war, or start one. What Tarion did not know was that today would be the day he died.

Tarion was the body guard of King Asperion, and the two of them were riding to the Kingdom of Calian, the most powerful kingdom in the fallen lands. Tarion had traveled with his king many times, but had never gone as far as Calian. He wondered how many of the stories of the fighting skill and lethality of the king and queen of Calian were true, at this thought he checked that his knife and spear were securely in there sheathes.  
King Asperion was a young man, a fact that put them on missions like this one far too many times. He dressed always in the silk clothes that were the crimson red of the kingdom of Havantia, with a single rapier at his side. Tarion was not much older than the king, but since the king preferred to use his “champion” when fighting was required, he was dressed as much for combat as he was for diplomacy. The leather armor with the symbol of Havantia on the chest was sticky from the sweat of the long journey, but the last time he went on a diplomatic mission with the king without armor, his best shirt became barely usable as a napkin.

They were let through the city gates without issue and led to the large redbrick mansion that served as the palace of Calian. They were expected so it wasn’t surprising when they were greeted at a door by a servant who beckoned for them to follow. It wasn’t a long walk to the throne room, but it was an intimidating one. The hallway they were led down was filled with the trophies of the Calianian rulers, some gained as tokens of peace, others taken as signs of dominance. Whether the stories are true or not, thought Tarion, the king and queen want people to believe in them. Clever.  
The energy of the throne room was vastly different from the reception hall. Tarion knew that he had no power here, and he hoped that King Asperion was clever enough to realize it as well. The queen sat in her throne, dressed in a mixture of leather armor and cloth that was the green and blue colors that represented Calian. Her hair was cropped short, swept back from her face, and gleamed platinum in the light; though she was woman in her sixties, her face lined with the years of her experience, she was a great beauty, hazel eyes lined with kohl. Leaning on the side of her throne was her rapier that she was famous for wielding with grace and bloodlust in equal parts, Tarion couldn’t see any other weapons on her, but he was sure she had at least some. Standing next to the empty throne which could only belong to the king was an older man that Tarion assumed to be the royal bodyguard. The bodyguard was dressed in a leather coat over robes, all the same green and blue that the queen wore. His hair was also cropped short, streaked with the same silver as the Queen, his beard similarly salt-and-peppered. A black leather eyepatch embroidered with Calian’s sigil covered his left eye, obviously because of the thick scar that traversed his face. Tarion got the feeling that whatever had taken the King’s eye had not lived long enough to boast the feat. Strapped to his back was a longsword, and a large revolver glinted in a holster at his thigh. A wave of awe licked down his spine at the sight of the legendary weapon; Tarion dared not show it, but everyone knew that the king’s infamous, unique weapon was a death-dealer in his hands.

“Your majesty,” King Asperion said with a bow that barely escaping being mocking, “Will the king not be joining us?”

“Your insult was to me.” The queen said venomously, “Your apology is for me.”

“Of course, your majesty, once you dismiss your lapdog I will be happy to apologize.” Asperion assured with a careless grin.

The bodyguard stiffened at this, eye growing wide, and Tarion mentally prepared to fight yet another duel for his charge. 

“You don’t want him here, but you want the king here?” the queen asked with a chuckle, “How exactly is that possible?”

“I- um- I don’t understand your majesty.” Stuttered Asperion.

The queen looked to the bodyguard and smiled, “I think you should take your seat my love.”

“I believe you’re right my treasure.” The bodyguard said, as he sat down in the other throne. He took the queens hand in his and she kissed him with a giggle.

“I believe you are here to apologize.” Said the queen.

“Yes, yes of course, I came to apologize for the insult I made in questioning your faithfulness to your king. I see know that accusing you of, ahem, carrying on with your soldiers came from my misunderstanding your king’s role in his army.”

“Very well,” the queen said dismissively, “And now your apology to my husband.”

“I don’t understand,” Said Asperion nervously, “I thought you had said my apology was for you?”

“She did,” said the king sternly, “and then you called me a lapdog.”

“In my defense you are dressed as a common bodyguard.” Asperion scoffed.

The king’s face suddenly went as hard as stone. “I am the king of Calian, the captain of the Calianian guard, and the bodyguard of my queen just as she is my bodyguard. Misunderstanding or not, I am not a lapdog, and I am not a common bodyguard. You will apologize to me.”

Tarion knew that once Asperion was given an order, there was almost no way that it would be followed. Asperion was not one to avoid wars, even if they weren’t likely to win. Surely, though, Tarion hoped desperately, he’s not stupid enough to go to war with Calian. 

“I will do know such thing!” Asperion said indignantly, “You tricked me into insulting you, you just want me to start this war.”

“I don’t think we have time for a war with Havantia.” Said the queen, quite sweetly, though her grin was anything but.

The king nodded, “Far too little time. If he does not wish to apologize we shall have to settle this with a duel.”

“Very well!” Exclaimed Asperion, “I accept your challenge.”

“Then I shall meet you in the arena tomorrow.” The king said coldly.

“Erm,” King Asperion paused, which Tarion knew meant he was about to be volunteered, “You shall meet my bodyguard in the arena tomorrow, I’m far too important to risk in a duel.”

The king stared down Tarion, “Do you accept my challenge?”

“Of course he does, I mean I did.” Asperion said, as if anything else was ludicrous.

“I asked him.” 

Tarion had never had a chance to turn down a duel before; he wondered what the king expected him to say. Tarion was bound by both royal oaths and tradition to fight if his king asked him too, but he would surely die if he fought the legendary warrior king of Calian.

“I do as my king commands.” Tarion said after a time.

“Then I shall see you tomorrow in the arena,” the king said, leaning back in his throne, “I hope you are a more honorable man than the one you serve.” With a wave of the queen’s hand servants appeared to escort them to the rooms they would be staying in that night.

Tarion sat in his chamber in the arena. The duel would begin soon, and he was very anxious for the gate in front of him to open. He had slept deeply thanks to some medicine he kept with him for such occasions, he didn’t want to go into a duel with anything slowing him down. He had been in this position so many times before, but never against an opponent as dangerous as the Calianian king. Tarion was honor bound to defend his king with his life, but he had been hoping it wouldn’t be so soon.

The gates opened slowly, and Tarion stepped onto the sandy grounds of the arena. As was tradition he was dressed in simple leather armor with nothing covering his arms. He was allowed two weapons, and had his spear in one, and had his knife in a sheath at the small of his back. He had been offered a helmet, but had turned it down to keep his whole field of vision.

He saw the king step out of his side of the arena dressed similarly, except that he was wearing a helmet of black metal, with a green and gold plume coming from the top. He carried a sword, but didn’t have any other weapons that Tarion could see.

They met in the middle of the arena and placed their right hands over their hearts and bowed to each other, signaling that they were both ready for combat to begin.

The king swung his sword at Tarion’s head as soon as they he rose from the bow. Tarion ducked quickly and moved back as much as he could. His only hope was to keep the king at a distance with his spear. This was not a strategy that surprised the king, who pressed with strike after strike, not allowing Tarion to focus on anything other than running. In an effort to gain some ground Tarion used the shaft of his spear to block the king’s sword swing. To both Tarion’s and the king’s surprise, the sword stopped and Tarion could feel the momentum shift in his favor. 

Taking the opportunity Tarion swung the back of his spear up and hit the king squarely in the jaw, knocking off his black helmet. Tarion immediately brought up his leg a kicked the king as hard as he could into the nearby wall. There was a long gap between them, and Tarion knew he couldn’t clear it in time, so he did the riskiest the thing he could do as a spear fighter. He raised his spear and threw it at the king. 

The spear flew well, but the king saw it coming and moved to dodge. He wasn’t fast enough. The spear caught in the should of the king’s armor and pinned him to the wall. Tarion didn’t think the actually hit any flesh, but it slowed down the king long enough for Tarion to do what he needed to do. He drew his knife and brought in down quickly towards the king’s neck.

Tarion felt his knife pierce flesh, but much sooner than he had expected. The king had a hand raised, with the knife through it, the tip inches from his throat. Tarion felt the life leave his face, and he swore he saw the king smile. The king looked Tarion in the eyes, and slammed his forehead in to Tarion’s face. Tarion fell to his knees as the king pulled the spear from his armor and the knife from his hand. The king pulled Tarion’s face up so that they were once again looking each other in the eyes.

“You came here to prevent a war,” the king said breathlessly, “and that’s exactly what you’re going to do.” With these final words the king plunged the knife into Tarion’s torso, and his world went dark.

Tarion awoke with a start. He was in a bed and room that were the colors that told him he was still in Calian. The king was sitting in a chair next to him and smiled when Tarion stirred.

“How am I alive?” Tarion asked weakly.

“I told you,” the king said happily, “You’re going to help me prevent a war. Welcome to the Calian royal guard.”


End file.
